Chapter 6

Stepping into the room, which is still steamy from my earlier visit, I start to unbutton my blouse, but I can't be bothered and simply lift it over my head. For a moment, my vision is blocked as the blouse goes over my face, then, as I can see again, I realise that he is in the room with me. I startle, and he grins. "Don't mind if I watch, do you?"

I shake my head dumbly.

He nods in satisfaction. "I might decide to help, but let's see how it goes." His grin drops to a half-smile and he tilts his head in that expression of his that I am coming to recognise. "Take your bra off, Elizabeth. Slowly. And turn to face me. I want to see you properly."

Turning to face him fully, I unclip my black and lacy bra, then slide it slowly down my stomach, before letting it drop to the floor. Then I start to unzip my skirt.

"No," he says. "Not yet. Fondle your breasts, Elizabeth. Caress them. Play with your nipples."

He wants me to perform for him? I hesitate.

"I'm waiting."

I cup my breasts, then, stroking and squeezing them, I watch his gaze drop to watch. Suddenly, I realise that I very much want to give him a show. I start tweaking and pinching at my nipples, making them crinkle and harden. I feel myself warming from within and flushing. He smiles again, knowing exactly what is happening. He does have the most beautiful smile, starting at his lips and curving up to his deep blue eyes.

"Don't move. Stay right there," he demands as he walks out, returning only a moment later with the champagne bottle. "We'll drink this in a while, but I have better uses for it right now."

The bottle is chilled from the ice, running with condensation. He holds the cold glass up to my nipples, flicking over their already crinkled skin with the icy surface. I gasp at the sheer combination of pleasure and pain of the sensation, not cold, just stimulating. "I'm going to enjoy training you, Elizabeth," he says.

"Sorry? Training me?"

"You'll see," he says. "I'm going to fuck you raw in a while, but first you have to please me. You have to be a good girl."

I groan. Desperate to fuck, I want nothing more than to feel him inside me. "Oh, God ..."

"Yes, Elizabeth? What is it?"

"Please ..."

"Please, what?"

"Please. I ... I need to cum."

"So, what would you like me to do?"

"Please ..."

"I told you before, you have to ask. You won't get it without asking."

I am almost incoherent with lust. "Oh, God. Fuck me. Please, fuck me."

"Good girl. That's better."

Abruptly, he pulls me close, kissing me hard on the mouth, lingering as he runs his fingers through my hair. He then twists me around, bending me face down over the hand basin. From somewhere, he produces a silk cord, obviously having it already prepared. He loops it over my left wrist, around a tap, then around my right wrist and the other tap. I am tied down, with my back arched, and my butt presented to him.

With my face down, I feel him come close behind me and pull me by my waist backwards until my arms are outstretched and my hips pulled upright. His pelvis is pressed against me and I can feel his erection. Pushing my skirt up around my waist so that my naked derriere is exposed, with one foot, he spreads my legs, stretching my aching pussy open.

He splays himself over me. I had realised he's tall. I am not short, about five feet nine, but to bend over me like that, he must be well over six feet. His voice murmurs close to my ear. "Now then, Elizabeth. You've been good and asked nicely, so you deserve something. Which do you want? My cock inside you? Or do I tongue fuck you?"

Shaking and trembling, I can barely speak, and gasp out, "Don't care. Just let me cum."

"As my lady wishes." He backs away from me, and the next thing I feel is his tongue, not gentle this time, but licking hard and slow from the front, over my clit, and beyond, before making circles inside and around my pussy. I cannot help myself, and I come within seconds, breaking into helpless screams as pulses of pleasure pump through me. I try to buck, but he grips me firmly around the pelvis and continues his merciless probing.

When I can bear no more, when I think I am going to explode, I shriek, "Enough. Enough!"

He stops instantly and as I hang slack and limp over the basin, panting, he strokes one hip, and I feel him kiss my bud.

He stands up, untying me. For a moment, I don't move; I don't feel capable of moving, thinking my knees will buckle if I try. As my breathing subsides, he lifts me upright, taking my weight for a moment, holding me to his chest. "Are you all right, Elizabeth?"

Speechlessly, I nod, then, as I become able to support myself, he says, "Have your shower. I'll see you in the lounge. Don't bother with the skirt."